


Between the Lines - Part 1

by tanwencooper



Series: Between the Lines [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Missing Scene, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwencooper/pseuds/tanwencooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days into her nursing course, Nurse Sybil Crawley lies awake thinking about the man she left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series filling in the blanks of series 2.

“I promise to devote every waking moment to your happiness.”

The words looped over in Sybil's head, repeating over and over keeping her awake even though exhaustion was ordering her to sleep. Everytime she closed her eyes she saw his, lighting up with the joy of his dreams only for that light to die her words crushed them.

She twisted her fingers around the simple silver cross she wore. All her fine jewellery was left behind at Downton. Springs and wires dug through the too thin mattress and into her limbs, the harsh wool blankets made her arms itch. He was right. The war was changing everything.

She had always been fond of Branson. She was fond of all the servants, wanted them all to live the best life they could but if she was honest she'd always had a soft spot for Branson. Not in the way he wanted, of course, but they met on equal terms; man and woman, aristocrat and workman. It hadn't mattered to them. It had been liberating. For that she never paid heed to his obvious affections, neither encouraging nor denouncing them for fear he would leave her alone again. She had detested being stranded, no more than a child to her family and a Lady to her servants. No one else would discuss politics with her with any seriousness or tell her she was being an idiot when she deserved it. Then he'd come along, with his pamphlets and his big ideas. How could she not be swept away?

Why did he have to say anything? If he knew it was impossible why even mentioned it and why now? Now she had to pretend like nothing had ever been said by either of them and that everything was just as it was. Just as it should be. What was she supposed to say when she next took a ride with her father, knowing she had kept this from him? Was it really only intellectual loneliness that stilled her tongue?

She jerked her head, trying to get away from the thought. That way danger lay. Branson was her father's employee. At most he was a friend. Nothing more. That was impossible. Not because she was an Earl's daughter and he was an Irish socialist mind. Well... not to her anyway. Her parents though would disown her if she ever...

Why was she even thinking about this? She had no feelings for him. She didn't.

She sighed and rolled over on to her side, the rusty springs of the bed groaning under her lumpy mattress and she heard her room mate stir in her own sleep. Focus on something unrelated... what she had learned that day. Bedpans and bath sheets managed to occupy her for a few minutes before she thought of an Irish doctor they'd met earlier. She'd been rustled at the time. While she was learning it was easy to devote her whole self to the work and forget about the awkward moment with her chauffeur.

Though she had always been political and sure of her opinions, he'd been the first one to take her seriously. Rather than laugh her off as a foolish girl with idealistic dreams he'd nurtured her, helped her to grow. She wasn't Lady Sybil anymore. She was Sybil. Now she was Nurse Crawley. She was changing, becoming herself rather than the thing her family thought she was. Would she even be here now if he hadn't brought it out of her all those years ago?

The efforts of the day finally began to wear on her. Thoughts came disjointedly and the world around her began to fade into shapes and greys. At some point she slipped into slumber and dreamed of another life when the light in his eyes didn't die.


End file.
